Sweet Baby James
by TheRowlingPierceWriter
Summary: Reliving that awful night, twenty-four years later, based on a song by James Taylor.


Sweet Baby James

Hermione stared down at her baby with the love only a mother had. She felt her ginger hair brushing her cheeks and falling down onto his smooth baby ones. Her walnut-shaped amber eyes were worried and bright. Her son, but a year old, gurgled incessantly up at her. She managed a weak smile to show him everything was all right. She reached out a hand and drew her fingers around his profile, inscribing it into her memory. He had little tufts of black hair, huge green eyes and her own English perked nose. She felt tears splash down her cheeks and she wiped them away impatiently. She couldn't let her tiny angel know the danger of this moment. She couldn't let herself believe that it was happening. She began to sing in a reassuring way, his lullaby, that she adored as much as him.

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There's a young cowboy

Lives on the range

His horse and his cattle are his only companions

Works in the saddle and sleeps in the canyons

She sobbed as her throat closed up. James, named after his grandfather, looked up at her with a puzzled expression. He didn't understand that his father was in mortal danger, or that he was dueling with the most powerful Dark Wizard of the century. He simply recognized his mother's sadness, and it upset him. He began to cry as well, choking as he wailed. Hermione leaned over and immediately stroked him back to calmness, restraining her own cries to comfort him. She drew a deep breath, hesitated with pain, and continued to cradle her son. He resembled his father to a tee. Soon she was able to pick up the song where she had left off, to further relax her joy that she so lovingly called James, her voice tinkling like a bell with the summer breeze upon it.

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Waiting for summer 

His pastures to change

And as the moon rises he sits by his fire

Thinking about woman and glasses of beer

James drifted off to a dreamless sleep as his mother serenaded him. He saw only love, and peace, and Hermione wished it could stay that way. She was sick with worry about her husband, in the room over, silently battling for his life. She couldn't believe that he was dead, or that he had been injured. She felt her own love for him should protect him like a shield. "Hermione, take James and go!" The words were from another dimension, yet so near to her it was frightening. She saw his father's voice, though she had never heard it, in his plea. Harry, she thought. Please don't die. I need you. James needs you. A rogue tear slipped out, and Hermione was grateful that her baby didn't see it. She hated to see him hurting.

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Closing his eyes as the doggies retire

He sings out a song that is soft but is clear

As if maybe someone could hear

Goodnight moonlight ladies

Oh God please, she prayed. Don't hurt my husband. Kill me but never him. And not my son. Sweet Jesus, not them. "Harry-I love you." She had told him before fleeing the room. His eyes misted as he replied, "I love you too, my Hermione." Grimly she thought that if he were to leave this Earth at least the last words from her he would hear was that she loved him. She knew she always would. And with a downcast feeling, she had ran to the nursery, ready to reassure James. "It's okay, darling, everything is going to be fine," She cooed to him. His tiny chest moved up and down ever so slightly, signaling that he was asleep. "Everything's going to be okay." She repeated, with more confidence than she felt. Part of her screamed how many times Harry-her own Harry-had escaped Voldemort, and another part, a demon part, said that Yes, that was true, except now he's at his full power, and Harry doesn't have anyone to protect him.

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Rockabye sweet baby James

Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose 

Won't you let me go down in my dreams?

And rockabye sweet baby James

Hermione prayed with everything she had for the safety of her husband and son. Nothing was so important to her. She felt terror, endless terror, in her heart. What was happening? Was Harry already lying there, dead, with Voldemort on his way over here to finish Hermione and James? Were that high-pitched cackle and a flash of green light the last thing Harry could remember? Why the hell wasn't she out there with him, anyway? She began to get up, glancing back at her son, her sun, and she sat back down. She loved Harry, though she knew he could defend himself. James was a different matter. She picked up the song, singing mournfully.

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Now the first of December

Was covered with snow

So was the turnpike from Stockridge to Boston

Though the Berkshires seemed dreamlike on account of that frostin'

How many times had that hymn escaped her lips? She couldn't be sure; it was so familiar to her. Hermione took in everything around her with incredible clarity. She could hear James' tiny breathing, her own ragged gasps, and the way her sneakers scraped the wood floor. A fly buzzed on the window, pausing for a second to rest. Outside the moon shone light that lit up the backyard. Stars winked down at her and James, burning bright. Her coffee, now cold, sat in the mug beside her, smelling of creams and sugar. She saw the shadows cast over the room, somehow eerie yet comfortable. Hermione sighed, exhaling, and sucking in new air. She cleared her mind with speed borne of long practice, and continued with the lullaby she held so dear. 

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With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go

There's a song that they sing when they take to the highway

A song that they sing when they take to the sea

A song that they sing of their home in the sky

James stirred, and Hermione plucked him out of his cradle to hold him. She hugged him to her chest, thinking that if Voldemort were to come in here, she would never allow him to take her son. She swayed, rocking him in her arms, and he snuggled closer to her. James, she thought, you are so much like your father. Your father…my husband…She cut off the thought. She couldn't upset James by crying again, than he would know there was something wrong. Instead of letting the pent-up tears cascade, she decided to lull him to sleep with the rest of his song, an old Muggle hit she couldn't forget. "Sweet baby James," She spoke aloud. "Sleep, my sweet baby James." She crooned the next part of the song, willing him to drift away into a dreamland happy and far, far away. 

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Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep

The singing works just fine for me

So goodnight, moonlight ladies

Rockabye sweet baby James

"It's okay, honey, everything is just fine." She said to him, even though the one who really needed the consoling was she. "Daddy's right over there, and I'm here. I'm here now." She kissed the top of his head, reminding him of how much she loved him. "Just go back to sleep, sweetie, and everything will be okay." Hermione didn't really want James to sleep, she wanted his company, however young it was, but the mother inside of her told her that right now, sleep was best for him. "You don't worry about anything, James, baby, it's all okay." Her voice cracked. Were James had been sleeping was his most prized possession. It was a stuffed teddy bear, with one eye missing. Hermione picked it up and held it as she would James himself. The fur was clean, a bit matted, but clean. Hermione pressed a thumb onto it and shut her eyes tight closed.

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Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose

Won't you let me go down in my dreams?

And rockabye sweet baby James

As the ended Hermione fingered the key on the back of the bear's neck. She twisted it and from an enchantment placed long ago a melody was produced. Hermione's own voice, like honey, floated over them. 

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There is a young cowboy

Lives on the range

His horse and his cattle are his only companions

Works in the saddle and sleeps in the canyons

Hermione shut the song off with delicate fingers and lay both James and his bear in the crib. She turned toward the door to go and look in on her husband. She wasn't sure if he was all right, or even alive. She just had to see him. She took one last look at her son, the picture of peace, and slipped out of the nursery. Sadly, she whispered back to him, "Sleep James. My sweet baby James." 


End file.
